"I—I didn't!"
"Then Whitey Wasson, or some of your crowd, did. I suppose they passed the saw to you to get rid of, which you would have done if you were wise."
"I—I found that saw on the plains," stammered Len.
"Probably where Whitey dropped it," Dave retorted. "Now look here Len Molick," he went on. "You say you didn't saw those posts, but I think you did, and I'm going to try to prove it. This saw is part of the proof. I guess I'll just keep it.
"And one thing more. If I catch you hanging around our special corral, even if you are on free range land, I'll tackle you. Don't forget that!"
"If you dare to touch me!" fairly screamed Len, for he was very angry now, "if you dare to touch me I'll have you arrested! My father knows the sheriff—"
"You can't scare me by any talk like that," Dave said, coolly. "You know
I'm a nobody, and I can't be disgraced like any one who bears the name of
Molick!" and he laughed mockingly, though there was a sore spot in his
heart.
After all it is small satisfaction to be a "nobody."
Dave released his hold on the bridle of Len's horse, and urged his own steed back toward Bar U ranch.
"You just wait! I'll fix you for this," Len threatened.